


The Art of Losing

by do_it_to_julia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Condoms, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_it_to_julia/pseuds/do_it_to_julia
Summary: Posted belatedly for the last day of Mitaka Week 2018. Ben Solo and Dopheld Mitaka meet in another life.





	The Art of Losing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Asher_Ephraim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/gifts).



> For Mitaka Week 2018. Free prompt. With love and thanks to my friend KH, whose advice and experience was invaluable.
> 
> The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Though it's late, the square is relatively busy, and a sun still hangs distant in the sky, cooler and smaller than its unseen twin. As he makes his way to the address he was given, Ben wonders briefly if evenings on Tatooine were anything like this. He can't really imagine a young Luke Skywalker making arrangements to meet a sex worker, but stranger things have happened.

He eventually finds an anonymous door set into a sand-dusted wall and presses the buzzer. There's a small peephole in one side which Ben finds himself staring at until it opens. The man who greets him gives him a tired smile.

"Ben, right?" he asks, motioning for him to come in.

"Yeah," he replies awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he steps into the cool shade. "You must be Fell."

He recognizes his hair and build from the grainy holo on the planetary network - dark and slim respectively, with a glimpse of high cheekbones and soft jawline above the smooth white expanse of his back. It feels odd to see him in person now, to find that familiarity in a stranger. Fell wears a lightweight tunic and loose trousers, cut off at mid calf and slightly ragged at the hem, and Ben wonders if that's a style choice or simply a sign of cheap clothing. Either could be true here. This system isn't exactly known for its economic success.

He leads Ben into the hallway and through a beaded curtain to what looks like a small bar, deserted except for a sharp-faced human man with red hair, who leaves quickly when he sees them, trailing cigarra smoke. Fell gestures him to one of the empty, ageing tables.

The man looks to be only a little younger than him, and though Ben can sense at once that this one is not force-sensitive in the slightest, he seems perceptive enough to notice his client's nervousness. "First time?" he asks gently.

"Um, yeah. Is this - do you work here?" he asks, as he sits down.

Fell nods. "I share the rent with a few friends. Do you want a glass of water?"

Ben declines politely, and listens as Fell goes through the terms, soft-spoken and professional. They've already been over most of this via commlink, but he pays close attention anyway, fighting down nervous anticipation to keep his expression neutral and still. As agreed, he takes payment up front - "You wanted an hour, right?" - and Ben allows his force-sense to graze over the man's thoughts, catching _tired_ and _bored_ and _he seems safe enough_ before guilt forces him to withdraw again. It feels like an invasion of privacy, and he's keen not to make any mistakes here; he's less familiar with Fell's world than one might expect of a smuggler's son, and the idea of reaching out to Han for advice had just seemed _embarrassing_. Besides, he hasn't spoken to either of his parents for several months.

He pays upfront, as agreed, and follows Fell up the narrow, dusty stairs to a cool, dark corridor. Without trying, he can sense that there are others on this floor, but it's a quiet and unobtrusive kind of presence, a _pretending not to be here_ which might well be deliberate. Fell leads him to a room at the end, bare except for a freshly-made bed and a dresser and the dim strips of light cast through high windows from a lilac sky.

The man smiles and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, folding one leg underneath him. Ben knows it's a tacit invitation to sit, but it takes him a moment to gather up the courage to accept.

"You've paid for an hour, but we can take this at whatever pace you feel comfortable," he says. There is something easy and relaxed about Fell's mannerisms, and it's not entirely an affectation. Ben senses a calm professionalism in him, intimidating and soothing in equal measure. "How this works, in a legal sense, is that you're purchasing my time, not my services. Whatever we choose to do now is between us, so if you decide you'd rather not go any further, that's fine, and I'm not going to judge you."

He reaches over and rests a hand on Ben's thigh, a gentle invitation. "Why don't you start by telling me what you'd like to do?"

Ben takes a long breath. The spark of arousal elicited by his touch makes it easier to speak freely.

"I - when I said it was my first time, I mean in - in both senses of the word," he admits, sensing a glint of surprise from the other which feels more than a little flattering. "I guess I - well I'm open to suggestions but I don't think I want to - try anything too adventurous... if you get me."

"I get you." Fell nods and edges closer; his loose sleeveless tunic reminds Ben a little of the padawan uniforms Skywalker used to make him wear, and it slides off one shoulder as he moves, revealing more of that smooth, pale collarbone. "Why don't we start with oral, and then see where things go from there?"

He reaches over for the ties of Ben's trousers with a questioning look, and Ben nods subtly, letting his knees nudge apart further. Fell slips to the floor, his eyes on Ben's as he bares him and takes hold of his cock. He massages it to fullness, and Ben watches his face, those thick dark eyelashes lowering as Fell drops his gaze to his work.

It doesn't take long to get him hard enough to put the condom on. Ben takes a slow breath as he feels those deft fingers rolling it down. Fell glances up at him with a small, reassuring smile, and then parts those plush lips to take him in.

He'd assumed previously that getting a blow job through a condom would be a dulled and joyless affair, but the pressure of the younger man's mouth makes Ben gasp, and he can still feel the warmth of him through the latex. Fell works his tongue skilfully over the underside, then sucks lightly, and brings him deeper.

His movements are slow, but Ben knows within a minute or two that he's in danger of coming too soon if Fell keeps this up. He lays his hand awkwardly on the back of Fell's head, and swallows.

"Um - can we - go further?" he asks hoarsely. Fell pulls away and stands.

"Why don't you lie down, and I can ride you? Or would you prefer me on my hands and knees?" he asks, as he unties the front of his shirt and lets it fall to the ground. Even hearing Fell say it makes Ben's cock throb lightly.

"I'd - like you to ride me, please," he replies, with hesitation, and Fell smiles, indicating the mattress with a nod. Ben undresses hurriedly, pulling off his shoes and trousers before following up with his shirt, and adjusts the condom over himself as he lies on his back, feeling oddly vulnerable like this.

Now fully bare, Fell picks up a small bottle from the nightstand and climbs over him. His body is lithe, almost too slim, with a hint of past hardships in the lean definition of his muscles and ribs. Ben has little time to really think about it, because suddenly Fell's oil-slick hand is moving over his cock, coating it liberally, and Ben can just about muster the wherewithal to ask, "Aren't - don't I need to prepare you?"

"It's alright. I prepped myself before you arrived." Fell's voice is as soft and smooth as his movements, and he half-kneels, half-squats over Ben's hips, reaching behind himself to ease the tip of his cock inside.

Ben had never expected that losing his virginity would be a particularly transcendent experience, but his reaction to the tight heat of Fell's body surprises him with its intensity. His breath quickens of its own accord, hitches in his throat when the younger man bottoms out and starts to move.

It doesn't take long at all. The sight of Fell alone is unashamedly erotic - the way he leans back atop him, hips flexing, cock half-hard, refines the growing tremor of desire inside him into a trembling point between his legs, and while a small part of Ben's mind is still aware that this is a performance for his benefit, that Fell is simply doing a job, he can't help but allow himself to get lost in the fantasy a little. His palm rests tentatively on Fell's thigh, soft as a lover's. "Should I - do you want me to-?" he manages.

"Let's focus on your pleasure for now," Fell breathes, an amused indulgence and a mild, reflexive arousal reverberating quietly through Ben's force-sense, and then he grinds down against him and all thought is lost in the bright ecstasy of his climax - Ben exhales sharply as he comes, thrusting up into him, and Fell rides him through the aftershocks, not stopping until the curve of Ben's back relaxes down against the mattress once more.


End file.
